Happily
by bicyclesarecool
Summary: Bella Swan has always played it safe. She has stable boyfriend and a college major with a stable job outlook. And this is fine with her, thankyouverymuch. Until she meets Edward, an artist, who makes her question if being comfortable and being happy are the same thing. AH.
1. Chapter 1

**Here is my new attempt-really enjoying writing this one. Let me know what you think!**

* * *

It's a nice night—breezy for late summer and the sky is clear—which is really saying something for Forks. I check my phone, mostly to see what time it is but it does not escape my notice that I have an unread message from Jacob.

7:17.

I am two minutes late.

I shove my phone in the pocket of my black pants and pick up my pace, regretting wearing my new black flats as I feel them rub uncomfortably against my heels. I can see the theater building, Fuller Hall, and the substantial number of patrons milling around outside, waiting for doors to open.

It's the final night of Forks College's performance of _Les Miserables_, the summer theater series' musical. Forks is a small liberal arts school in Washington state known for its outstanding dramatic arts program.

My best friend, Alice Brandon, is a costume design major and had volunteered her summer to work on the show. Not only did she design and help create all of what the actors were wearing tonight, she is the Front of House Manager, which is really very important, I suppose, as she deals with making sure everyone had tickets and were seated and ready to go as she flickered the lights to let them know it was five minutes until the curtains swooshed open.

It's the last night of summer before incoming freshmen arrived on campus and their orientation leaders, who had helped usher the other performances, were busy getting everything prepared, leaving Alice desperate for anyone she could rope into helping out.

Which is where I come in.

Because I have a summer job at the library on campus, I was around and I had no reason to say no.

I take the steps two at a time, nearly falling on my face on the last leap, and swing the door open. The lobby is full of elderly patrons, milling around slowly and talking too loudly to one another—the senior citizen population of the town of Forks took advantage of the program more than the students at the school did. I weave my way through clusters of people and make it to the doors to the theater itself. The lights are on but dim and the rows of chairs are empty, the deep red curtain closed. I look around and don't see anyone, but I hear Alice's high, musical voice from beyond the sound booth. I walk quickly to where a group is gathered, all dressed identically to me with the exception of me missing a black "Forks College Theater and Dance" polo shirt. I feel myself burning red in my black tank top.

"Oh, Bella is here! Take a seat, I'm just giving everyone their jobs," Alice says cheerfully and I apologize for being late. She brushes it off, no big deal. I sit down, not looking at anyone in the group but I can feel someone staring at me. I do my best to ignore it while Alice reads off names and duties.

"Does anyone have any questions?" Her query is met with silence. "Okay, everyone go ahead and get to your places—I'm opening the doors in seven minutes." As everyone stands up, she pulls me aside.

"Come on, let's get you a polo," she says, leading me out to the lobby and then into a small room across from the box office. It's cramped and too bright, a copier taking up most of the space. There's a box in the corner overflowing with black fabric. Alice digs through the box until she finds my size and tosses the shirt to me.

"You look nice, "I say. She beams and puts on her _oh this old thing? _routine. She really does look nice in her sheer, black shirt dress and wedges that make her almost as tall as my own five feet four inches. She has the dress belted, showing off her small waist and her short dark hair is twisted in pieces and pinned to the top of her head—done well enough to look like it hadn't been done at all. Her small, angular features are dusted in a shimmery bronzer—she looks like a fairy and she jingles as moves, multiple gold bangles sliding up and down her arm.

I pull the polo shirt over my head and smooth my hair back, feeling very plain next to Alice with my mousy brown ponytail.

Alice adjusts my collar before exclaiming that I am perfect and pushing me out the door.

I am in charge of passing out programs as patrons filter into the theatre. It's a simple job. I can handle it.

I reach my side of the double doors, taking a stack of programs from Alice and waiting for her to open the doors. A few moments later, a boy in a shirt that matches my own stands at the door next to mine. He is much taller than I am—almost a foot taller than my five foot three inches. His hair is a reddish brown color, bronze if I'm feeling dramatic, and stands up at an angle that insists he runs his long fingers through it far too much. His green eyes are bored, hidden behind a pair of thick framed glasses, the left lens holding a deep scratch. His pants are too faded and his shoes, though black, were not dressy like my flats.

I feel my stomach flip once and the door next to me opens with a _swoosh_. The people milling around the lobby look up and then down at their tickets and begin shuffling towards us. The boy meets my eyes briefly and I give him a small smile, no teeth showing. He does not return the gesture, but he raises an eyebrow instead.

I turn my focus on the gray haired man walking towards me, his hand out expectantly. I hand him the program and he goes inside, showing one of the ushers his ticket. The better part of the next ten minutes follows this process until an older woman comes to the door and jokingly looks panicked, her head turning towards me and then to the boy across from me, both of us extending programs to her.

"Oh, dear, who will I choose?" she says, her tone light. I grin exaggeratedly.

"Mine are better," I offer, playing along. The woman uses her whole body to shrug.

"Well if you insist." To the boy, she adds, "You better watch out, I think she's trying to steal all your business." His mouth turns up on one side, crookedly smiling at her ever so slightly as she walks inside.

"Is that true?" I hear him say, his voice gravelly and deep. "Are you trying to ruin me?"

"Oh, of course. That's why they sent me." He laughs quietly and my stomach lurches again. His laugh is a low rumble, scratchy like he's been coughing or smoking too much but it's a pleasant sound. Understated as far as laughs go. The room is suddenly too warm.

There's a lull in traffic—all of the early birds are seated and it's too soon for the fashionably late to show up. I have no idea what to talk to him about but my body is craving the

"So, what brings you here tonight? Are you a theatre major?"

"No," he says. "I'm an art major. Just doing a favor for a friend. What about you?"

"Same, Alice was desperate for help." He nods and doesn't say anything, but he keeps his eyes on mine. It's an intense stare—far too intense for this mundane conversation. I feel the blood rush to my cheeks. I don't know how to look away but then again, I'm not sure that I really want to. My phone vibrates in my back pocket and I know it's from Jake. The thought is enough to break the gaze. I keep my eyes trained on the front doors, desperate for a distraction.

This feeling in my chest, the quick pang of…something. It hurts in the best way, and I can't deny that there are butterflies in my stomach, my skin feels too warm and I just really want to know his name.

_Have I seen him before?_

I'm not new to campus, being a sophomore and all, but I can't place him. Forks is a small school—only about three thousand students total. There's a possibility that he's an incoming freshman but I really doubt it—he looks too old, too mature, too _rugged_.

I snap my head up, suddenly aware of where I am. Rugged? Let me wipe the drool away now. Did he see me? I sneak a glance. He's talking to one of the patrons, directing them to the bathroom. He's wearing a small smile and as the woman walks away, he runs a hand through his hair and his focus is back on me. He smiles again when he finds me looking at him, it happens so automatically he seems to be taken off guard.

"I'm Bella, by the way," I offer, reaching out my hand for him to shake. He looks amused.

"Edward." And when he shakes my hand I nearly fell over. The warm roughness is electric and the current goes straight to my chest and deep in my stomach. I'm sure my expression mirrors his—eyes wide, mouth parted. He cocks his head to the side and furrows his brow.

At that moment, the next rush comes in and we have to go back to passing out programs.

But as we do, our eyes keep meeting and I know he felt it too.

"Thank you _soooo_ much, Bella," Alice says, pulling me into the room with the copier again so I can change my shirt. The show has started and my job is done, Alice had told me that I could stay for the show but I declined, knowing that Jake would be waiting up for me.

"Oh, it was really no big deal," I mumble, pulling the polo over my head and tossing it to her. Once I'm back to normal, my hair coming undone a bit more than when I started, Alice pulls the door open to find Edward standing right outside.

"Hey Alice, do you just want the shirts in that box?" He asks, pointing behind us. His eyes find mine and my cheeks burn. Alice says something back but I don't hear her. All I see is green under glass.

Alice begins having a lengthy conversation with him and I squeeze past her and when I get to the door, he scoots over a little so I can leave but I feel his hand brush my arm. I look at him over my shoulder and he's flexing his hand, my arm burns where he's touched me.

* * *

When I pull into my gravel driveway ten minutes later, I let out the breath I've been holding. I feel too wired and anxious to go in and face my parents. My house suddenly seems threatening, even though it's narrow and the white siding is fading—unchanged since my parents bought it in the 80s when they first got married. There is only one light on that I can see through the large window on the first floor, illuminating the living room where my dad sits, sipping a beer and writing something down on a legal pad. My mother wanders into the room and stops at the window, leaning in close and peering out.

I am caught—forced to come inside or face Renee's third degree. I turn my truck off, the noisy rumble of the ancient engine cutting into a too sudden silence.

When I get inside, Renee is digging through her new sewing box for something. I glance from her to the unfinished scrapbooks on the small bookshelf in the corner of the room and then to the empty fish tank next to the sofa. My dad catches my wandering eyes and chuckles; our private joke. Renee looks up, having found the thread she was looking for and smiles at me.

"How was the play, Bella?" she asks, settling in next to my dad, curling her legs under her and turning on her faux Tiffany lamp for more light.

"Oh, I just had to pass out programs. Boring really," I sigh, leaning on the door frame. My heels sting, pinched in my shoes. Upstairs there is a warm bath and a book waiting for me, but before I can escape, Renee speaks again.

"Oh, Jacob called while you were out," she says nonchalantly but her frown does not go unseen. I had been dating Jacob for a little over a year, and he has been completely unaware of her fake smiles and slightly backhanded comments. I was grateful for his ignorance but never quite understood my mother's distaste.

"It's not that he's not a nice boy, Bella," she would always say, the _but_ poised on the tip of her tongue. "It seems like he's holding you back! This is supposed to be the time of your life, you know."

I always told her that he wasn't—that I was perfectly happy staying in and with his eleven o'clock curfew. I didn't go to parties or take spontaneous trips or any of that, I just wasn't _that_ person.

And despite the fact that Jacob is two years younger than me, it hardly ever feels that way. He's mature for being a seventeen year old boy. He watches movies with me and we hang out at First Beach with his friends, and he doesn't pressure me about sex.

Not that he would even consider it anyway. But that's neither here nor there.

Jacob is warmth and light and comfort.

Once I get upstairs, I check my phone. Four texts and one missed call.

_Bells call me when you're done.-J_

_Are you done yet?-J_

_Now?-J_

_Seriously how long does this take?-J_

I laugh, because he's being ridiculous. I am pretty sure he's joking but I can't rule out the possibility that his badgering is genuine. I shrug off the inkling of annoyance creeping its way into my chest and call him.

"Finally," he breathes, answering after the first ring.

"It's only 8:30," I say as I kick off my flats.

"I know but I was still hoping I could see you tonight. You move into your dorm in six days," he mumbles.

"You do know my dorm is only ten minutes from you, right?" He sighs and the tone of that single, deep exhale alerts me that he is about to go on his long-winded speech about why what I just said is unimportant. _It signifies the end of summer, we're not going to see each other so often_, et cetera.

I tune him out and inspect the blisters on my heels. Jacob is still talking, encouraged by my distracted _mhmm_'s and _yeah_'s when I set the phone down so I can pull a light sweater over my head. I push the sleeves up and when my hand lands on my forearm, my heart pulls, remembering who touched the same spot less than an hour ago. I pick the phone back up.

"And you know what, Bella?" he says, not even noticing my absence. I urge him to continue. "This is our five hundredth day _together_."

I do smile because it's sweet that he went through the trouble to figure that number out—that he cares that much. He was just the kind of person to genuinely give a shit about our relationship.

"That's so wonderful, Jake. I can't believe you counted that out," I say, stretching out across my bed, laying my cheek against the soft blue cotton of my quilt.

"I got bored while you were at work last week," he admits and though he always assures me that he doesn't mean to do it, but the guilt creeps its way into my chest anyways.

Jake's dad was in a pretty bad car accident a couple years ago and ended up paralyzed from the waist down. He owns a small auto repair business out of his garage and needs Jake to help with a lot of the stuff he can't do. Both of them are stuck at home a lot and I'm usually over there, too but since I got this library job, my days are fuller than they ever had been before. When I first talked about applying, Jacob was on board completely, even helped me go over my strengths and weaknesses. Once I got the job, he took me out to dinner. However, once I had to turn him down for work a few times, his previous excitement was gone. He was stuck alone at home most days, bent over the open hoods of cars, listening to his dad's endless instructions and stories.

"I love you, you know," I sigh.

"Love you too, Bells."

We whisper to each other for a few moments longer before I tell him I'll see him tomorrow and that I'm going to bed.

Once I put my phone on my bedside table and plug it in to charge, I lay back on my pillows, feeling light and loved but later on, my arm burns in the dark and I make myself think of Jacob's brown eyes and warm smile as I fall asleep.

I dream of green anyways.

* * *

I spend the last days of my summer vacation split between the library, Jake and packing. Though I _do_ only live ten minutes from Forks' campus, I chose to live at school. Before I had known my dad was taking the chief of campus police position, thus granting me free tuition, I had quite a bit of money saved up for school from years of babysitting and doing odd jobs around town as well as the nice sum my grandma Swan had left for my school when she had died. I could afford the dorm and it was nice to live away from home, no matter how short the distance.

I'm in my room, the window open letting in the warm, sunny air as I box up the last of my things. I have a record player sitting in the middle of my room—it had belonged to my dad back in the day—and I'm humming along with Nico's voice. As soon as I tape the box closed, Jacob is standing in my doorway, looking around the room apprehensively. I smile at him, he takes up most of the door frame. Though he's not really built in anyway—he's still a gangly kid—he's so tall. If his dark hair wasn't cropped so close to his head, he would almost touch the top of the door frame.

"Don't give me that face," I warn, standing up and pulling my hair into a loose ponytail.

"I'm just going to miss you," he mumbles and I have to stop my eyes from rolling.

"I'm not going to be far—it'll be just like last year," I say reassuringly. His brow remains furrowed. I decide to distract him from this funk—it's the last day before I move back in and I don't need him sulking. I give him a slow, lingering kiss, letting my eyes close. It doesn't take long for him to deepen the kiss, his tongue working its way into my mouth and his hands pulling me closer, the light stubble on his face scratching my cheeks a little too painfully.

It's not that Jake was a bad kisser, really. He's just an _enthusiastic_ kisser. Plus who am I to judge? He's my only point of reference.

I pull away after a while and when I do, he's grinning hugely at me, any previous anxiety gone from his features.

"Are you ready to go to the beach?" I ask, reaching for my bag.

'Yeah but you might wanna put some more make up before we go—your face is super red here." He runs his fingers along my upper lip and chin and cheeks.

I flush, a little offended but I do it anyways.

It's a hot day out and the water is the perfect relief from lying out on the sand, playing cards with Jake's friends. We eat hotdogs cooked over a fire for dinner and eat s'mores for dessert. Jake drives me home and kisses me in his old Volkswagen until my dad turns the porch light on and I go inside. My limbs are tired from the heat and the swimming so I fall asleep easily, unable to decide if I'm quite ready to go back to school.

When I pull up to my dorm in my truck, Rosalie Hale is already there, standing next to her mom's SUV and no doubt directing a Forks football player on where to take her stuff for her. When she sees me, she squeals and waves her hands wildly, as if she needs to get my attention.

When I get out of the truck's cab and make my way over to her, she wraps me in a huge hug, her long, strawberry blonde hair suffocating me. When she's finished, she holds me at arm's length, looking me over.

"You look _great_!" she exclaims and I give her a small, embarrassed smile. The football player she was talking to earlier is staring at us.

"Oh please," I mumble, because really. I'm in old cut off shorts and one of Jacob's t-shirts. She on the other hand is in a very chic mint green tank top, tucked into white shorts, emphasizing her long, tanned legs. I remember her telling me she was going to be spending a few weeks in the Bahamas in July.

Even though I spent plenty of time outside with Jake over the summer, my skin seemed paper white next to hers.

"Okay," she begins. "This room is much bigger than the one we had last year, and I am so glad we get our own bathroom this time. Alice is already moved in next door but her roommate hasn't gotten here yet. Oh, I just _have_ to show you the curtains my mother bought us—so perfect. I missed you _so_ much."

I smile and put an arm around her as we walk into the dorm. Rose was from upstate New York, majoring in international business and I had no idea why she had chosen to come here of all places, but I was glad she did. We grew really close last year and I don't know what I would do without her.

She is right, the room _is_ larger than the one we had last year but still not _large_. As sophomores were allowed to live in Brighton Hall, or the sophomore suites as everyone called them. Each suite consisted of two dorm rooms connected by a bathroom. Our beds are raised and on opposite ends of the room, nothing underneath them. There are two closets on either side of the door, though one is smaller to accommodate the bathroom door and desks at the ends of our beds. The floor is a drab grey tile, the walls a white brick.

"I know it's depressing right now, but we'll make it lovely. Did you bring the futon?" I nod. At the beginning of the summer, before she left for home, we bought a futon off of a girl who lived down the hall from us. It was white and yellow, perfect for our weekly movie nights.

"Perfect, I brought the TV." And almost on cue the football player comes in the room carrying the small flat screen TV, setting it down on a desk and leaving to go get more. Rose and I laugh.

"Where are your parents?" I ask, finding it strange I haven't yet seen them.

"Oh, I don't know. They went to the campus center for this presentation, I think," she says distractedly, turning towards a box already sitting in the corner of the room.

"Shall we get started?"

* * *

Thanks to the football players, we get most of my stuff in the room in less than twenty minutes. The futon proves to be a challenge but eventually it works its way to its new home under my bed. The TV is under Rose's bed on a small coffee table she had brought. The mini fridge/microwave combo we rented is set up next to it.

When Rose's parents come back they fuss over me up and I smell Chanel perfume when Mrs. Hale hugs me tightly. They ask me how my summer has been and I ask about the Bahamas. They don't stay long—they want to go to dinner and then turn in early—they plan on leaving early.

The curtains are hung and Rose was right, they are perfect. They match the futon almost exactly.

At some point, Alice finally arrives and we all have a very girlish moment of screeching and hugging.

"Oh thank God, I've missed us," Alice cries, throwing her arms around our shoulders. We spend a few more minutes mooning over each other and begin to discuss how to spend our first evening back.

"You know, Delta Sig is having a back-to-campus party tonight," Rose says, smirking suggestively.

"You just want to see Emmett," I mutter, suddenly feeling anxious. Rose and Alice won't let me get out of this party—not tonight. Jacob wanted to hang out in my room and he definitely won't want to go to the party.

"Oh, who's that again?" she sighs, her voice obnoxiously nonchalant and aloof. Alice rolls her eyes.

"Did you talk to him at all this summer?" Alice asks, collapsing on the futon and pulling out her phone. Mine buzzes in my pocket.

_Call me when you're all settled. Sorry I couldn't help today.-J_

I put off responding for just a while longer.

"He sent me a message on Facebook _once_ but I think he was drunk. It was kind of sweet but also kind of dirty." Her cheeks actually turn a little pink. Alice glances up from her scrolling and smirks.

"Are we sure we want to go to Delta Sig? According to this Forks gossip thing, the soccer house is having a thing tonight too…" I can hear the wicked tone in her voice. Rosalie freezes.

"W-well. That's an option too, I suppose," she stammers, flustered. Alice sits up quickly.

"Just admit it—you like him."

Rose crosses her arms over her chest.

"Fine, we're going to the soccer house then," Alice sings, getting up and heading towards her room.

"I LIKE HIM, OKAY? HE IS VERY HOT AND HE IS VERY FUNNY AND I KIND OF HATE HIM," Rose roars and when she's finished I cannot stop my laughter. Alice is clapping and shouting _bravo_ in a very dramatic way.

"I'm going to go take a shower now," Rose snaps, grabbing her stuff from her closet. We each blow her a kiss.

"So. About tonight," I say to Alice slowly. Her gaze hardens.

"You _have _to go, Bella. You need to get out sometimes," she says and I know that she will be unyielding to this issue. I nod.

"You call Jacob, I'm going to see if my roommate is here yet." And with that, Alice closes the door, leaving me alone with an impending argument. My phone weighs heavy in my pocket.

* * *

Alice's roommate is a short, curvy girl with a loud voice like a shaken can of soda and bubble gum. Her hair is on the frizzy side of curly and is currently pulled up into a tall ponytail. She introduces herself as Jessica Stanley from Vancouver.

I regard her warily.

Alice seems to like her just fine though and is fussing over her outfit, helping her pick out the perfect accessories to wear out tonight. The whole time, Jessica is talking about anything and everything. I sit at Alice's desk chair, tugging at my too small faded shorts and trying to ignore the fact that I am not wearing a shirt.

Rosalie is digging through Alice's closet trying to find me a top, kicking my discarded t-shirt out of the way.

"I don't know who I'm trying to impress," I mumble. My stomach drops at the thought of Jacob's disapproving tone when I told him my plans for the evening, his disappointment at not seeing me.

"Just be careful," he sighed but his voice wavered enough to let me know that he was worried about more than just my safety.

"You're not trying to impress _anyone_, Bella," Alice scolds. "You are going out with your girls and you are going to look hot for you." I roll my eyes.

"Try this!" Rose calls and tosses me a soft, light pink shirt. I hold it up and scrutinize the flowy material and appreciate the high neckline.

Once I pull it on and feel the breeze over my abdomen, I can see what the neckline is compensating for.

"Oh, Rose, I can't—" but I'm cut off by a low whistle.

"Damn, Bella, have you been working out?" Rose says, hands on her hips as she appraises my outfit.

I blush. I've always been on the slender side but the soft kind of slender—by no means muscular. This summer, though, I'd started running with Jacob in the mornings, which he eventually gave up in order to sleep in more but I kept at it, reaching the point where I could run a few miles a day. It was cathartic.

"Are we almost ready to go? It's already ten," I say, trying to change the subject.

Rose laughs and pulls me out the door.

"I need a drink and a big dumb jock in my life, like yesterday," she says and we are on our way.

* * *

**Next chapter should be up later this week xoxo **


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay couldn't resist. This is going up way sooner than I'd anticipated. Thanks to those who reviewed the last chaper xoxo**

* * *

Delta Sig's house is one of the farthest frats from the main part of campus, so it takes us a while to walk over. This also means that it's less likely to get busted by the campus police a.k.a. my father. The house is packed by the time we arrive, music blasting and people smoking on the front porch.

We go straight to the basement, where none other than Emmett McCarty is sitting behind the makeshift bar, handing out cheap beer and shots. Rose takes a pull from the monogrammed flask she's been keeping in her pocket and hands it me. It smells like sunscreen and I take a drink. Coconut rum. Ugh.

"Well, well, well," Emmett says loudly, his attention solely on Rosalie Hale—who has just fluffed her hair and stuck her chest out before making her way towards him. I have to hold in my laugh. Rosalie has always been like this around Emmett, ever since the first party they met at last winter. Their relationship is about her making him want her and then keeping him at an arm's length as she plays hard to get.

"You look like you could use a shot," he drawls and she leans across the bar.

"Hook me up, Em." I swear to God she actually purrs this at him. Alice is suddenly beside me and giggling.

We interrupt their tête à tête to grab some beers, and Emmett smiles warmly at us. I always liked him—yes, he was a huge football playing frat boy, but he also went out of his way to say hello to me if I saw him around campus and though he and Rosalie talked a big talk, he always looked out for her at these parties and hasn't ever taken advantage of her, much to her constant disappointment.

"It's just, I haven't gotten him out of my system yet, you know?" she had shouted earlier today, as she was blow drying her hair. "Once I get him bed, he'll be out of my head." She laughed at the rhyme, but repeated it a few times to herself throughout the day, like it was her new mantra.

Seeing them together now though, her cheeks are flushed and she keeps leaning closer to him as he smiles hugely at her. He has eyes for no one else.

Poor Rose, poor Em. They don't stand a chance.

"Let's go find, Jess," Alice says in my ear, pulling me away from the sexual tension in front of us. I follow her upstairs where music is making the walls shake and someone nearly knocks my beer out of my hand. Jessica is in the back corner, a drink already in her hand and a guy wrapped around her waist. When she sees us, she grins and mouths _oh my God!_ as she points exaggeratedly at the blonde guy grinding on her.

"Wanna play some pong?" Alice asks, pointing to the table on the other end of the room. The current game looks like it's finishing up. We exchange a glance and make our way over.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Alice and I are dominating two sloppy Delta Sig boys, who are getting drunker by the minute. Alice is actually taking drinks from her own beer, thirsty. When we finally put them out of their misery, they shout for a rematch but we go off in search of Rose or Jess—whoever we can find first. Jessica is still dancing with the blonde guy and Rose is nowhere to be found, and Emmett is no longer handing out drinks.

Edward is.

My mouth goes dry and my palms start to sweat. Alice whispers, "gimme a piece of _that_." And I feel my vision go green for a second.

Edward is _here_. And Edward is laughing at something that I can't see because of the crowd.

But then Edward is looking at me and my heart jumps into my throat, trying to burst its way out to get to him.

"Oh, Edward is _gorgeous_ isn't he? He actually makes that whole grunge thing look good," Alice mutters and she's right. His black pants are torn and faded and he's wearing a flannel shirt that's too big for him, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

His forearms are so nice.

And because his forearms are nice I know the rest of him is nice and I feel a pang in my lower abdomen.

I am in deep trouble.

Edward smiles at me and suddenly the room isn't loud and the crowd is gone and Edward's smile is the only thing that matters.

I make my way towards him and he holds out a shot of something to me, I take it and try not to cough as it burns my throat on the way down.

"Hi," he breathes. I ask for another shot.

"No, no, no, Bella that is a _terrible_ song," Edward groans from beside me. He, Alice and I have been sitting behind the bar for about an hour now, talking and drinking. Alice is bleary eyed next to me, staring out at the crowd with an amused expression on her face, while I argue with Edward.

"It's a _fantastic _song, I love it, I want it on a loop during my funeral," I slur and he rolls his eyes. In all honesty, I have completely forgotten what song we are discussing with such intensity but I like to see him so riled up, so I keep goading him.

"Just admit you love it," I say. "It's okay to let your hipster wall down, I won't judge."

He laughs loudly.

"You're drunk," he says, turning to look at me.

"_You're_ drunk," I snap.

"But not nearly as drunk as you," he claims softly, but matter-of-factly. He's wearing his glasses again and I want to take them off to see his green eyes unclouded by the dirty lenses. He scrutinizes me for a moment before he stands up. I begin to panic. Is he leaving?

"You should go home," he says, and holds out his hand for me to grab. When I do, I feel that same warm electricity I did when I shook his hand at the theatre. He holds on than is probably necessary before he moves on to pulling Alice up as well. She stumbles into him.

"I'll walk you guys," he says and keeps one arm around Alice's waist to keep her on her feet. His free hand makes its way to my lower back, where my shirt doesn't quite reach. I burn under his touch.

"We need to find Rose and Jess," I hear myself say suddenly and I'm looking around the room.

"Rose is the blonde girl, right?" I nod. "She left with Emmett a while ago."

"Okay, just Jessica then." And when we find her, she's making out with the blonde guy on one of the couches pushed up against the wall.

"Go on without me," she says dramatically. "Mike will take…good care of me." We leave her laughing with him.

The air is thick outside, the stars hidden by the incoming clouds. It will rain at any moment. Alice suddenly is laughing her giddy drunken laugh.

"Rosalie and Emmett are gonna fu-uh-uck," she sings, stumbling away from Edward and hip thrusting her way down the sidewalk.

I cannot stop the hysterical giggles that bubble up my throat. We have to stop walking as I double over in laughter, Alice doing the same, practically rolling on the ground. Rain is starting to fall.

I look up and Edward is watching us—well, me mostly—with an amused smile on his face.

"Come on," he says as we catch our breath. "Let's get you drunks home."

It takes twice as long as it should to get to our dorm because Alice pukes in the bushes out front of the campus center. Her hair is pinned up so I don't have to hold it but I rub circles on her back until it passes. She takes a few deep breaths and gets to her feet. Edward puts his arm back around her waist and we slowly continue on.

"I am so so so so so sorry," Alice says about nine hundred times the rest of the way back. Edward shakes his head each time and I tell her to stop it. His hair is starting to look darker from the rain and it's flopping into his face. He runs his free hand through it hopelessly. I can't stop looking at him.

When we finally get back to Brighton, I pull out my key card and get us into the building. We have to go up a flight of stairs to get to our room and Edward is practically carrying Alice, her eyes heavy with sleep.

We get Alice in my room and lay her down on the futon, Edward makes her drink some water while I grab some blankets from her bed for her. When I get her all tucked in, I put her bottle of water on the table next to the futon and find some Advil, leaving that too—just in case. Once I know she's all settled, I turn my attention to Edward. He's watching me, the smallest of smiles on his full lips.

"What?" I ask, suddenly self-conscious.

"Nothing, you're just…sweet," he says simply. I blush and he takes a few steps towards me.

"It was really nice talking to you tonight, Bella." His voice is low. "Even though you have terrible taste in music."

"It was nice talking to you, too, Edward," I say, yawning his name. He chuckles.

"I'll let you go to bed now." And suddenly he's opening the door.

"Do you live in this building?" I blurt out, too loudly.

"No, I live over by Delta Sig. I'm renting a house there with Emmett and a few other guys actually," he says, rubbing his neck.

"Oh my god and you walked us all the way back here?" I say, suddenly feeling horrible for putting him out. He shrugs.

"I wanted to make sure you got home okay."

"Oh, well, thank you," I say quietly. "Will you at least text me when you get home? So I don't worry? Because if you die, it will be my fault and I would feel _horrible_."

"Sure, what's your number?" he asks, pulling out his phone. I tell him and he turns to leave, after whispering a quick _goodnight_. I watch him go down the hallway and when he's out of sight, I go to the window and wait for him to make his way outside. I watch him walk down the street, hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed. I stay at the window until he turns a corner, and then I get ready for bed.

Once I am under the covers, my phone vibrates in my hand and I scroll past the numerous messages from Jake until I find one from a number I don't recognize.

_Home safe, sleep well-E_

And thanks to the alcohol, I do sleep well and far into the morning.

I wake up with a slight headache and fingers cramped, still curled around my phone.

Alice stirs from under my bed.

I start reading the messages from Jake from last night and early this morning, each one growing more and more irritated and uneasy that I am being so unresponsive.

"Uggggghhh," Alice groans loudly.

I feel the same way, but not from a hangover as I pull my pillow over my head, wishing I could just fall back into last night.

* * *

Eventually, Alice rouses me from bed, telling me that she's going to shower first and that we should get some food once we're all cleaned up. I take advantage of this time to call Jacob.

"_What _happened, Bella?" he grounds out, answering almost immediately. "I was so worried, I almost called your dad."

I cringe at the thought of my dad sending out a search party only to find me drunk at a fraternity house. I can almost see the shade of purple his face would turn.

"Oh my god, Jake," I groan and annoyance seeps into my tone. "I'm sorry, I was at a party with my friends and I couldn't text you every five seconds. You don't need to get my _dad_ involved. I'm almost twenty years old for Christ's sake."

His silence on the other end is excruciating and when he responds, his voice is too quiet.

"I'm sorry; I was just worried about you. It's not like you not to answer. You're usually texting me how bored you are."

I sigh. He's right. I going to parties hate parties and I'm typically sending him text upon text about how much fun I'm not having.

"Last night was different, Jake," I say. "I was having a good time.

"Oh yeah?" he says. I tell him all about my night, but I hesitate when I get to the part about Edward. Will he be jealous?

"We ran into one of Alice's friends and hung out with him for a while—he actually made sure we got home okay, which was really nice of him," I explain. Jacob accepts this and we being talking about his upcoming schedule for his senior year of high school, right up until Alice pops her head in the room to tell me I can have the bathroom.

* * *

Alice and I have just sat down in the campus center's dining hall, plates full of eggs and bacon, when we see Rosalie sulk into the room, oversized sunglasses still over her eyes and a t-shirt way too big for her hanging over her slender frame. She must see us because she sinks down into the chair next to Alice and takes a big drink of her orange juice. Alice gives her an irritated look but doesn't stop her when she steals a piece of bacon.

"So, where did you disappear to last night?" I ask casually. Rosalie rubs her temples and pushes her sunglasses up. Mascara is smudged under her eyes.

"I went back to Emmett's," she says and takes a bite of my eggs.

"And?" I prompt.

"Nothing happened," she sighed. "I was super drunk and we made out a little but that's it. He slept in his bed with me but we didn't do anything worth mentioning." Her disappointment is palpable.

We spend the rest of breakfast discussing Emmett and speculating when another party might happen. I'm about to get up to put my plate on the dishwasher and grab a to-go cup of coffee when Alice turns her attention to me.

"So, you and Edward last night." It isn't a question. I feel myself reddening.

"What about me and Edward?" I manage, as casually as I can.

"You two seemed to be enjoying each other a lot," she points out, sipping her orange juice innocently.

"Wait what? Who's Edward?" Rosalie asks through another bite of Alice's food.

"No one," I mumble.

"Edward Masen. He's friends with Ben Cheney," Alice explains. Ben Cheney is a stage management major and shares a lot of classes with her. Rosalie's eyes flash with recognition.

"Oh my god does he live with Emmett?" I nod. Rose continues. "I saw him this morning when I was leaving—he's so cute. In that homeless way, though. So what happened last night?"

"Nothing!" I say in exasperation. "The three of us just hung out, he walked us back to Brighton."

"And they were totally flirting," Alice pipes in.

"We were not," I snap. "I'm with Jacob remember?"

Alice and Rosalie both roll their eyes.

"Oh yes, the baby," Rose sighs and I stick my tongue out at her. "How long can that really last?"

"A long time," I say indignantly and I step away from the table, leaving them behind to call after me.

The whole conversation has made me feel incredibly guilty—like I had been cheating or something, though I know I definitely wasn't. Right?

Edward Masen is just a little crush, he's just very cute. He's not Jacob, he could never be like Jacob and I could never feel for him what I feel for Jake. He irritates me sometimes but those moments are few and far between—he's just a little stressed right now with school starting again.

I push Edward out of my head. I have decided to forget him.

I call Jacob on my way back to my dorm, sipping coffee and talking to him about nothing important and he's got me laughing.

He loves me and I love him, that's all that matters.

* * *

**reviews brighten my day and i work early tomorrow and it's supposed to be -20 degrees outside so i could use some extra sunshine xoxo**


	3. Chapter 3

**wooooo chapter threeeeeee here we goooooo thank you to those that reviewed xoxo**

* * *

"Professor Morgan kept us for the full hour today," I whine into my cell phone. "On a _syllabus day_. That's supposed to take like, twenty minutes tops. The first day is for introductions only. It's practically a law."

Jake laughs and tells me to quit complaining. I'm on my way to the library now to start my shift at 3:30. Mondays and Wednesdays are my busiest days, since I have class from nine to three, and then a two hour shift at work after.

"Well how was _your_ first day then?"

"Easy," he says. "We didn't do much but we had to stay the full seven hours." I let him tease me for a little bit more before I have to hang up, stepping into the welcomed air conditioning of the library.

The small café in the lobby is packed with students milling around, most of their classes done for the day. I push past them into the actual library itself, grateful to be away from the noise of the crowd. One of the girls who work the circulation desk, Angela, says hi to me when she sees me.

"How's your first day back going so far?" I ask.

"Can't complain, I've been here for far too long though," she sighs. "Mondays are a six hour shift and I'm only half way done."

I groan sympathetically.

"I'm training someone new in about an hour though, so I guess I'll see you soon?"

"Great, see you later, Ang," I say and make my way to the back room and to the elevator. Once I'm inside, I swipe my ID on the card reader and hit the 2R button.

I work in the periodicals department, which means I deal with all the newspapers, magazines and academic journals that come through. Periodicals Processing is in the center of the second floor of the library, it's dusty and dim from the lack of windows and hardly anyone passes through unless they work in the department.

That being said, Periodicals is made up of two other people besides me.

Esme, who I say hello to when the elevator doors open, is my manager. She smiles warmly at me from her cubicle at the other end of the room.

"Hello, Bella! How are you?" she asks kindly. Esme is in her mid-thirties and has been in charge of this department since she graduated from Forks herself and has been nothing but nice to me since I started a few months ago.

"Just fine. And yourself?" I ask, setting my stuff down next to my desk. Jasper comes in through the door next to Esme's cubicle pushing a cart of old, dusty books.

"Hey Bella," he drawls in his southern accent. I wave. Jasper is the graduate assistant assigned to Government Documents, which get processed in this room as well. I worked with him all summer and besides being a major history buff—currently working on his dissertation about the civil war—he is a film and music junkie so we have a lot to talk about.

I sit down at my desk and start going through the stack of new periodicals and begin checking them into the system, chatting with Esme and listening to Jasper as he recounts his recent trip home to Texas.

An hour later, right as I'm about to go shelve the stack of magazines and papers I just checked in, the elevator dings and the doors swoosh open.

"This is periodicals and government docs," Angela explains as she steps out of the elevator. "You won't really need to come in here for anything but I'll introduce you to everyone anyways."

And then Edward steps out of the elevator.

I swear to god my head could explode.

"That's Esme, Jasper and Bella." Angela points us all out. "Everyone, this is Edward. He's going to be working at the circ desk."

"Hello," he says politely but it sounds like he's stifling a laugh as he holds my gaze.

Esme greets him with her usual hospitality, peppering him with questions but I don't hear any of his answers because I am trying desperately to stop sweating. I've seen him more in the last week than I have in my entire time at Forks. I am cursing God or fate or whatever for this sick joke but at the same time, I am filled with a nervous excitement.

After what feels like forever, they continue on with their tour and I take a deep breath before going out to the stacks to shelve.

Normally, it's extremely quiet in this area because hardly anyone uses periodicals anymore but as I'm replacing last weeks' _Time_ magazine with this week's issue on the CURRENT PUBLICATIONS rack, Angela's voice occasionally breaks through the silence.

As I'm finishing up, Edward strolls casually down the aisle I'm in, hands shoved in his pockets and a smirk on his face.

"Okay so are you stalking me or something?" I'm taken aback, but I raise an eyebrow.

"I should be asking you that. I worked here first."

"True, okay, I'm stalking you. I'll be the bigger person and admit it." His smile is dazzling and I laugh too loudly.

"So did you just come over here to accuse me of following you or…?" I trail off; placing the magazine I'm holding in its correct box on the shelf.

"Kind of, but I was actually going to ask if you wanted to go grab some dinner at the campus center when you're done here."

I'm floored by what he's said and he senses my hesitation. I'm trying to forget about this stupid crush and going to dinner with him would be the _worst_ possible idea. It's practically a date. Oh my god, I have to say no.

But looking at him, his expectant expression, I realize that I really don't want to turn him down. I feel desperation constricting in my chest.

Okay, maybe I'll get to know him. Maybe he'll prove to be vain or boring or chews with his mouth open or listens to country music.

_That would certainly speed up the whole getting over him process_.

"Bella?" he says, his tone amused.

Oh god, I've just been staring at him and not talking for far too long.

"What, yes okay sure I'm almost done just let me…" and I nearly sprint back to the periodicals room, grabbing my stuff and saying goodbye to Jasper and Esme.

"Where's the fire?" Jasper calls after me but I'm already out the door and Edward is there smiling at me.

* * *

"What do you mean you _don't like grilled cheese_?" I say, staring at him incredulously. Edward rolls his eyes. "It's just bread, cheese and butter! Those are literally the best possible ingredients!"

He scoffs.

"See? You don't even have a reason. Because it's impossible to not like grilled cheese. Here, eat some of this." I tear off a piece of my sandwich and dunk it in my tomato soup before holding it out to him. He pops it in his mouth and makes a face. I exhale loudly.

Edward and I have not stopped arguing since we left the library. First, he made fun of me for wearing an old bowling shirt that my dad had given me and we went back and forth about that for the entire walk to the campus center. Once we met back at our table with our food he teased me about my grilled cheese.

In all honesty, Edward was ridiculous.

"So, Bella. Tell me, what is your major?" he says after painfully swallowing the grilled cheese.

"What a cliché question," I say.

"Well, a major can tell you a lot about the person. Like their hobbies and passions and all," he explains taking a bite of his hamburger.

"I'm…an accounting major," I say, feeling kind of embarrassed. He looks surprised.

"That's not what I was expecting," he says slowly, running a hand through his hair. The bronze locks take their time falling back into place.

"Why?"

"I don't know. I just didn't peg you as a numbers person."

"I mean, I'm really not," I mutter. "It's not like _Managerial Accounting_ is my passion." I think back to that class today, nearly falling asleep just looking at the syllabus.

"Then why are you studying it?" he asks and his brow puckers, like he's trying to solve a difficult math equation.

"Accounting is a stable career. I'll be able to get a job when I'm done here," I say with a shrug and eat a spoonful of soup. Edward just stares at me.

"Well do you _like_ it at least?" I laugh at his question.

"I don't think anyone _likes_ accounting."

"This is the saddest conversation I've ever had," he says, shaking his head. It's my turn to roll my eyes.

"It's a job, Edward, I don't have to love it," I say, feeling like I need to defend myself. Whenever I told anyone else I was an accounting major, they commended me for making such a _mature decision_. My parents were relieved, and though Jacob told me to do whatever made me happy, I could tell he was pleased with my choice.

"It'll make everything easier for us someday, Bell, with you having such a good job," he would say and I'd smile, imagining our future with him for a little while. I wasn't sure if it was normal, to be dreaming of spending the rest of my life with my high school boyfriend but I eventually came to terms with the fact that I didn't care. Things with Jacob were easy—we fit together comfortably, I couldn't picture myself with anyone else. I didn't need anyone else.

I was glad to have so many of these important decision made so early. It gave me peace of mind; I could make a set, planned path to follow. I'd be successful and happy—everything would come together on its own, failure wouldn't even be a possibility.

But sitting here with Edward's disbelief, I felt unsettled.

"You're going to have to do it every day, Bella," he says. "Why wouldn't you do something you loved? I love to paint so I am going to paint."

"Isn't that scary though? That's such an uncertain future," I say. He smiles, his eyes excited.

"That's the best part. I don't know, I guess I'd rather give it a shot than hide behind a sure thing that will make me miserable." A silence overtakes us as I think over Edward's words.

"I…I always wanted to work with books," I say eventually, doubt coloring my voice. "Like publishing or writing or anything really. But I don't know, as I grew up I kind of saw how dumb that was."

"I don't think that's dumb at all," he says softly, his eyes so unbelievably green. Not blue green or hazel but _green._ Like fresh cut grass or the mossy stones in the surrounding forests or the emerald earrings my mom wears on special occasions. My heart beats wildly and I'm sure he can hear it from across the table.

"You know, it's not too late to drop a class and add a new one…" he says suggestively, standing up with his plate in hand. I follow him to the dishwasher. "I'm taking this class as one of my general education requirements—it's just a general literature survey. There aren't a lot of people in the class; I bet you could still get in."

"Oh, I couldn't—" I say but he cuts me off as we are heading out the door.

"Sure you could. Bye, Bella," he says and turns around, heading in the direction of his house.

"Bye, Edward," I call after him, trying to sound annoyed. He just waves his hand and keeps walking.

* * *

I go to Jacob's right after dinner. My conversation with Edward has left me rattled and I need something soothing and familiar. He greets me at the door with a quick kiss and a warm hug. Seeing him instantly brings me back to Earth. How I have _missed_ his easy smile and hearty laugh. My heart rate is back to normal and I breathe in his scent, like soap and fabric softener.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever," he groans as he collapses dramatically onto the couch. I see Jacob's dad, Billy, in the kitchen and tell him a quick hello. Billy doesn't bother with small talk and for that I am eternally grateful. I settle onto the couch with Jacob, snuggling into his chest.

"Everything okay, Bells?" he asks before he places a kiss on my forehead.

"Yeah," I sigh.

"But…" he prompts.

"I don't know, I'm thinking about dropping an accounting class and signing up for this English class," I mumble.

"Oh, really?" Jacob sounds surprised and shifts so that he can see the apprehensive expression on my face. I nod slowly. "I mean, you're going to need to take electives anyways right?"

"You don't think it's a bad idea? What if it puts me behind on my credits for my major?" My anxiety makes Jacob laugh.

"Chill out, one class won't kill you," he says calmly, his mouth still twisted into a grin.

I sigh, and lean back into his chest. He knows to let the subject drop and turns the TV on.

* * *

Later that night, I'm at my computer, looking over my schedule. It's full of finance courses that I'm dreading. I stare at the screen for a long time, Rosalie floating around the room hanging up photographs and posters, telling me about her classes. I'm mostly ignoring her. I look up that class Edward had mentioned and skim the information about the course. The required reading list looked like heaven. I'd read some of them but most were titles I'd been meaning to get around to for years. I looked over the information again, and then again.

"Will you quit sighing?" Rose shouts. "Are you even listening?"

I exhale again and she hits me with a pillow.

* * *

On Wednesday when I walk into class, Edward is sitting at the back of the room, smirking at me. When I reach him, he hands me a copy of _The Sun Also Rises_. Another copy sits at the edge of his desk.

"You're ridiculous," I say, taking the seat next to him. He grins crookedly at me; it reaches his eyes and his whole face shines like the sun and moon and stars.

"I knew you'd change your mind," he says. I ignore him in an obvious way, studying my nails and trying not to smile. I can practically hear him roll his eyes. "Wanna go over the syllabus?"

And so we take the next few moments, looking over the novels we'd be reading and papers we'd be writing over the course of the semester, my excitement growing over each and every one of them. I'm pouring over the assignment descriptions when I feel Edward watching me. When I look up at him, his eyes are soft, his smile still big.

"You look so happy right now," he says, and this time he does touch my hand, briefly but it's warm and makes my stomach flip. I smile at him.

"I am."


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry it's been so long-i discovered sherlock and so my life ended. thank you to those reading and reviewing, it means so much.**

* * *

Jacob and I are walking to downtown Forks, which is really just one street lined with old buildings housing bookstores and coffee shops, when I see Edward. His hair is wet and eyes are tired, wearing one of the many flannel shirts he owns. He's sitting on a bench on the edge of campus, sketching or writing something, eyes trained on something in the distance. I am unsure of whether or not I should go say hi. I look up at Jacob, his dark eyes are smiling as he grabs my hand. It's been a few weeks since we've seen each other for more than an hour or two at a time and we have all of this Saturday afternoon to ourselves, I've missed our silly days together, the stress of the start of school has been seriously weighing us down and I'm feeling light as air. We had lunch with Alice and were now heading to the second-hand bookstore downtown.

"Do you know him, Bella?" Jacob asks, pointing ahead of us. I look to find Edward staring at us, his hand up like he was waving only a moment ago.

"Uh, yeah," I mutter as we approach him, suddenly apprehensive because Edward's mouth is pressed into a tight line; Jacob's hand squeezes mine harder.

"Hey, Edward," I say. He won't meet my eyes.

"Hello," he says quietly, almost cautiously and I know something is off. I've seen a lot of Edward the last few weeks, not just at the back of our English class, where he has taken to doodling on my notes and giving me sideways glances when the professor says something he doesn't agree with and not just at the library, where I pass him at the circulation desk on my way to the elevator. I have dinner with him almost every night—but not alone. Rose is almost always there, along with Alice and Emmett and we are the noisiest table there, with Emmett's boisterous laugh and Edward's never ending string of snarky comments. I know that he is never quiet. He is sarcastic and never shuts up and always skips the hellos when he greets me and launches right into whatever he needs to tell me. I don't think he's ever said _hello_ to me. The word makes me itchy.

I've never mentioned Edward to Jacob and I can tell by Jacobs tightening grip and calculating stare that this was a bad move on my part. I can see the wheels turning in Jacob's mind, trying to place how Edward fits into my life and why he's remained a secret.

"Edward, this is Jacob. Jake, Edward," I say, trying to break the tense silence.

"Her _boyfriend_," Jacob emphasizes and holds out his hand to Edward, who shakes his hand and still won't look at me. I feel my blood warm, taken off guard by what Jacob is saying and the implications behind those two words, the possessive quality they hold.

"Nice to meet you," Edward replies flatly, closing his sketchbook. "See you later, Bella." And with that he is loping away from us, pens behind his ear. We watch him go and as soon as he's out of earshot, I whip around to Jacob.

"What the _hell_ was that?" I hiss. He crosses his arms over his chest.

"I could ask you the same thing." The cocky, accusing tone of his voice makes my eyes burn.

"That was me saying hello to one of my friends and _you_ being so incredibly _rude_." He frowns. I start walking towards downtown, Jacob following close behind.

"Why haven't you mentioned him to me? Is there something going on? He looked awfully happy to see you." I let out an exasperated groan. He's being such a cliche.

"You're joking right?"

"No. Will you stop walking away from me?" He says loudly and grabs my wrist too roughly yanking me backwards; I let out a yelp and stumble, falling flat on my ass.

"Oh, shit, are you okay?" He crouches over me as I sit on the sidewalk, clutching my wrist.

"What is wrong with you?" I cry, very much wanting him to go home. At this moment, I do not feel comfort from Jacob Black, and it hurts more than anything else ever could.

"I'm sorry," he says sadly and rubs his face hard with his hands.

"There's nothing going on with me and Edward," I say, my voice shaky. I am trying hard not to cry. "We're just friends, I can't even believe you would think that."

I take in his face, marred with shame and regret and I try my best to feel bad for him. But I can't—at least not as much as he wants me to. I stand up, trying to just push this out of my mind; I am used to Jacob's unwarranted jealousy. He always took notice to other guys noticing me—any cashier that looked too long, every friend from high school that greeted me with a hug. I was always a little flattered beneath my mostly exasperated reactions to his watchfulness but now I just found it irritating.

"Let's just go to the bookstore," I sigh and wait for him to grab my hand before we continue on our way.

* * *

"Get anything good?" Rose asks as she enters the room. I'm on my bed, wrapped in my quilt and surrounded by pillows. I hold up the book I've been so immersed in and she appraises it, rolling her eyes at the title.

"Haven't you read that like, 900 times?" I stick my tongue out at her. She's right, I've read it more times than I can count, but it's like going home again—I get lost in it every time and after the last few hours with Jacob, I needed something familiar, something comforting.

"Anyways," Rose sighs. "Ready to get some dinner?"

She spends most of our walk to the campus center talking about her day. She had gone out to breakfast with Emmett and they spent most of the day hanging out at his house. I raise an eyebrow at her as we enter the dining room.

"We seriously just hung out. We watched bad TV, ate cereal, and okay stop giving me that look we made out a _little_ bit."

I give her a satisfied smirk before I spot Edward, sitting alone at our usual table. He's sipping coffee and hasn't touched the full plate of food in front of him. After Rose and I have gotten our food, we sit down with him and he doesn't look up, his eyes remain fixed on looking out the window.

"Hey," Rosalie says loudly, nudging him with her elbow. He turns around, startled, his green eyes widened in alarm.

"Christ," he breathes, and I can't help but laugh.

"Got a lot on your mind?" Rose teases and though Edward humors her with a smile, his eyes darken once they finally land on me. My heart beats double time at his concentrated stare.

"You could say that," he says quietly and Rosalie gives him a pointed look before focusing her attention on me.

"So, how was your day with Jacob, Bella?" I try to hide my discomfort and push around the mashed potatoes on my plate.

After our argument, Jacob and I went on with the day as we had planned, but I found myself collapsing in on myself, closing the doors and boarding up the windows while Jacob did his best to draw me out—he was unfailingly nice and bright to me for the rest of the day and it made me feel suffocated. It was too much. I wandered the bookstore trying to lose myself in the stories around me but I couldn't get my mind out of the haze I was under. I remained quiet all through our trip to get ice cream and when we reached my dorm, he didn't ask to come back to my room and for that I was grateful enough to kiss him goodbye. I then ended up in the nest of pillows and blankets that Rosalie found me in a couple of hours later.

I can't tell either of them this, though. I know Rosalie will be beside herself with irritation and blow the whole argument we had out of proportion. And Edward…I just don't want to even go there.

"It was fine, we just hung out. Nothing spectacular," I say, keeping my voice cool.

"Take advantage of the empty room at all?" she asks suggestively and I could kill her. Rosalie is well informed on my sex life—or lack thereof. My physical intimacy with Jacob is limited to me shirtless and getting him off with my hand, feeling far from satisfied as he finishes. Everything feels backwards as I try to work my pants off and he's pulling them back up.

As for Rosalie's question, I settle with scoff, dismissing her question with the wave of a hand. Edward stands up abruptly.

"I have to go finish some stuff up, see you guys later," he says quickly and he's gone before either of us can say goodbye. Rosalie lets out a triumphant laugh.

"What?" I ask, my eyes leaving Edward's retreating form to focus on her smirk.

"Isn't it obvious? He totally likes you. He's jealous," Rosalie says. "Did you see his face when I asked about Jacob? Total devastation."

I gape at her incredulously.

"You brought that up on purpose? You're insane. And delusional," I cry, my eyes finding Edward again. His hands are in his pockets, as always and he is heading towards the doors slowly, his head down.

"Oh please, don't be an idiot. Go after him—fix this," she says dismissively.

"Fix what?!" I nearly shout. "There's nothing to fix!"

"You're an idiot. Go—I'll get your plate. Stop making that face, you know how I feel about Jacob and Edward is…he's Edward." I stare at her but stand up anyways and before I know it, I'm out the door, jogging towards him.

I call out his name and he stops, but doesn't turn around. When I reach him, I grab his arm and I feel his body tense under my touch.

"Can I walk with you?" I breathe, and a small smile fights its way onto his face.

"I'm going to the art building," he says. "It's kind of a long walk."

"I don't mind—unless you don't want me to go." He hesitates but eventually pulls me along.

We walk in silence for a while, it's mostly comfortable. The night is surprisingly clear, the sun is just setting and it's cool enough to enjoy the oversized sweater I'm swimming in. I can hear distant laughter and the street lamps are just starting to come on. The air is clean and I am taking deep breaths, I feel lighter now, the tension I felt with Jacob earlier is dissipating.

"Is everything okay?" I finally ask, the art building is within view—just down the large hill we're nearing on.

"Um, yeah," he says awkwardly. I inwardly cringe.

"I'm really sorry about Jake earlier, he was being stupid," I say quickly. This weirdness between us is killing me. I've only known Edward for a short time but I've grown so used to him and I'm scared I'm losing him.

"Oh it's fine, I mean, I don't really care about that," he says and I sigh, letting silence overcome us again. We reach the art building and he doesn't tell me to leave so follow him back to the painting studio. The painting studio is divided up into little cubicles, each of the current students get their own to fill with whatever they want as they work. Edward's is in the back corner, his wall already has completed sketches and paintings tacked up, he has a small table with an iHome on it and a dirty coffee cup. Paint tubes and jars of paintbrushes are everywhere. I walk around the cubicle, looking at his art. I've never seen any of his work before, and it is beautiful.

Watercolors wash over sketches of vague shapes of people. I can make out the curve of spine, the darkness of an eye. The colors are a mix of muted and bursting and it's magic. I feel my chest constrict because _this_ is Edward. This is what he sees. This is what he feels. I manage to tear myself away from the works on the wall and he is standing behind me, watching with those intense, jade eyes. He is so, so beautiful. I want to push the hair out of his eyes and soothe his worried brow but I remember Jacob and I know I can't do any of those things. I remember the awkwardness between us.

"These are amazing, Edward," I say and he grins his thanks. "But will you just tell me what's wrong?" I blurt.

"Sit down," he says, gesturing to a stool right outside the space. I do as he says and pulls his sketchbook out and grabs a piece of charcoal off of the table next to him. His hand starts moving slowly over the paper. He tells me not to move.

"You didn't look right this afternoon," he says and continues sketching. He doesn't look up for my answer.

"Um, thanks," I say flatly, feeling slightly offended.

"Not like, bad just…not right. You know? No offense, but you looked off. Your eyes, they weren't like they usually are."

I say nothing.

"I just, I don't know, Bella. Are you happy? Like really happy with your life?" He is vague but what I hear is _are you happy with _him?

"Yes," I say too quickly and he finally looks up. My face must look terrible because his eyes are soft, he seems to change his mind about something.

"Don't be so sad, can you read the next chapter due out loud? I'll sketch and you read?"

I agree and Edward smiles warmly at me. I take a deep breath and we fall into our version of normalcy.

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**much love xoxo until next time, reviews are always appreciated.**


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